Some projects seem to find you.
Several months ago, I was talking with the Executive Director of the Wadena Development Authority, Dean Uselman, about public art and how much it can transform a community. I mentioned a building in town that had always caught my attention—not because it was beautiful, but because it felt like such a missed opportunity. It was a large, aging building that many people drove past every day. I didn't know who owned it, and I had no plans beyond a simple thought:
"if there was ever a wall meant for a mural, this was it."
I imagined bright colors, native wildlife, and bold contemporary designs turning an eyesore into something people would smile at as they drove by.
A few weeks later, I received an email from my former high school classmate, Mark Lunde. Attached was a photo of the very same building. His message was simple: if he resided the building, would I be interested in painting a mural on it?
Um yes please.... (and thanks Dean for making this connection happen) The weathered building I had been thinking about was about to become a blank canvas.
As soon as I saw the freshly sided wall, ideas started filling my sketchbook with ides and started designing compilations of my designs into a cohesive mural for this large wall. Minnesota wildlife. Scandinavian inspired design. Bold color. A mural that could transform not only the building but also the experience of driving through that part of town.
I started with a few of the images from my collection starting with the Loon...
and started laying them out playing around with shapes trying to create a landscape of sorts and of course I had to include a caboose as the building sits next to the railroad tracks across from the Depot. I had several renditions of the image (maybe over 100) and then started making mockups of my images on the building.
Designing for the Unknown
Some of my early mockups extended onto the roof, turning the entire building into one continuous composition. I loved the idea, and after I showed the mockups to Mark he loved the idea as well... but there was one problem I wasn't comfortable painting at that height. I began looking for someone who could help with the roof, but as the mural deadline got closer, I still hadn't found the right person.
It was becoming clear that I needed a new approach.
Rather than putting the entire project on hold, I challenged myself to create a design that could stand on its own without the roof. If I was unable to find someone to help, the mural would still stand on it's own. If I did, the artwork could naturally continue upward and expand across the building.
That shift in thinking ended up changing the design for the better.
Instead of depending on one big idea, the mural became more flexible. It could grow over time, but it didn't have to. Sometimes the best design solutions come from working within your limitations rather than trying to overcome them. This is the final design that I settled on and of course I made changes to it as we were painting.
Trusting the Process
Many mural artists grid out the mural or use Virtual Reality headsets to paint the design exactly like their mockup, but I just freehand it with a brush or roller. My paintings usually look close to the mockup but I allow myself the space to make changes as the mural comes to life. I may try VR for fun someday, but prefer not to. The one advantage it would have is that it would speed up my process and in MN with the extreme wind, rain, heat, cold... it would help me get the mural done faster.
If you've ever walked or driven by while I was painting this mural, you may have wondered what on earth was happening.
For a while, it looked like nothing more than giant blocks of turquoise, circles, rectangles, and scattered colors across a very long wall. The loon wasn't finished. The dragonfly hadn't appeared. The landscape was still hiding beneath layers of paint.
That's one of my favorite parts of creating large murals.
I almost never paint from left to right or finish one section before moving to the next. Instead, I work across the entire composition, constantly adjusting colors, balancing shapes, and making sure every part of the mural works with everything around it. Sometimes that means painting a background before I know exactly what will sit in front of it. Other times it means covering something I spent hours painting because a better idea emerged.
From the outside, it can look chaotic.
From my perspective, it's simply part of the process.
Each day the wall changed. A loon emerged from a few simple shapes. A dragonfly suddenly appeared where there had only been circles. The rolling hills, cattails, and sun slowly found their place, and what had looked abstract began to tell the story I had imagined months earlier.
Huge shout out to Moose and Britane for helping me paint and attention to detail. I could have never done this before June Jubilee without you!
These work-in-progress photos are some of my favorites because they capture those in-between moments. They're a reminder that creative work isn't usually a straight line. It grows one decision, one brushstroke, and sometimes one unexpected change at a time.
The finished mural may look alright...
But getting there is always a little messy.
Watching an Idea Become Reality
It's hard to believe how much has changed in such a short time.
Not long ago, this was simply an aging building that blended into the background. Then it became a blank white wall. After that, it was a collection of sketches, mockups, paint samples, and countless hours spent imagining what it could become.
Now, standing back and looking at it, it's rewarding to see how far the project has come.
Over the past several weeks, thousands of brushstrokes have transformed more than just a building. A Minnesota loon, dragonfly, rolling hills, the sun, leaves, birds in flight, and a train car have gradually appeared across the wall, each inspired by the landscapes and history that make this region unique. Watching those individual elements come together into one continuous abstract composition has been one of the most satisfying parts of the project.
Of course, murals are never quite as simple as they appear. There were weather delays, design changes, and plenty of moments where ideas evolved as I painted, and others disappeared altogether. That's one of the things I love about creating large-scale public art. The wall has a way of becoming a collaborator.
Although the mural is now telling the story I hoped it would, I still see one more chapter.
From the beginning, we imagined the artwork extending beyond the wall and continuing onto the roof, allowing the building itself to become part of the composition. That idea hasn't disappeared. It's simply waiting for the right weather, the right equipment, and the right team to make it happen safely.
As I look back at the early photos of an old weathered building and compare them to what stands here today, I'm reminded why I love public art. It has the ability to change not only a building, but the way people experience a place. My hope is that this mural brings a little more color, a little more curiosity, and a little more Minnesota to everyone who passes by.
The roof may still have its turn.
